


just a little pick me up

by desiredeffect



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:49:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desiredeffect/pseuds/desiredeffect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tucks his arms under his pillow, fingers clenching in the scratchy material, and he sighs at Theta’s jerky nod.  "Anything I can do to help?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	just a little pick me up

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to the ever so lovely Mimi's drawing of North and Theta on Tumblr (if and when I figure out how to make links work, I will do so).
> 
> Just as a side note, they're playing "Guess Which Hand Holds The Bullet".

He bolts upright in bed, blinking eyes open against the dim light filtering in from the awfully dull fluorescent lighting, the shock of adrenalin spiking through his veins.

There’s another hesitant touch at the back of his head, and he swerves his body around instinctively, even as his muscles slide into the soft push of _relax_ aimed in his direction. His thumb and forefinger pinch the bridge of his brow, mind ever so slightly slower on the uptake.

“Theta, buddy?” He asks the thin air groggily, and Jesus, talking to empty space will never stop seeming so fucking stupid. He eases back down onto the bed (shitty mattress, shitty pillows, seriously North’s muscles are _never_ going to unwind properly), rolling over as the dull purple and pink essence materialises in front of him.

“North?” Theta’s voice is quiet, almost artfully designed to seem as non-threatening as possible, and North can’t help the automatic quirk of his mouth into a gentle smile at the AI.

“Can’t sleep, bud?” He tucks his arms under his pillow, fingers clenching in the scratchy material, and he sighs at Theta’s jerky nod. “Anything I can do to help?”

Theta’s unease slides through the connection, an almost inky black kind of despair that rolls in like a cresting wave. North has never been big on dealing with anxiety, but the seemingly endless drives through lit-up streets with a restive sister, and the muted hum of reassurance he can barely recall as their father, well, let’s just say it might not be his _favourite_ solution, but it’s at least one.

“Want to play a game?”

Theta’s head tilts, an instinctively curious gesture that’s almost Wash-like in its nature, and North can’t help a grin. The AI sits, somehow, Indian-style, and maybe North is just imagining that his glow is just a smidgeon brighter.

“Okay, North. What game would you like to play?”

“Two fists, buddy. You remember this game, right?” North smiles, loose and easy as Theta nods enthusiastically, and North has a short moment of wonder about how much empathy and relation to human beings Theta is actually capable of as an intelligence unit.

“Okay,” Theta says, and holds up his hands, fists closed, “now guess which hand?”

North pretends to think about it, aware Theta always instinctively goes left the first time, before raising a finger and pointing. “This one.”

Theta’s small hand opens, revealing nothing but air, and North knows it isn’t simply his own _want_ to hear the glee in the AI’s voice as he tells him he’s wrong.

Just as he knows that that glow is _definitely_ brighter, and Theta’s own relaxation, the receding of the lapping unease, is worth the wrong selection.

\---

Picture: [ Here ](http://nonowest.tumblr.com/post/30862690460)


End file.
